


Techno freedom!

by Shinicha



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Coming of Age, Community: HPFT, Complete, Gen, Humor, Music, Next Generation, Next-Gen, Teenage Drama, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-16
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-15 08:14:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8048962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shinicha/pseuds/Shinicha
Summary: Hugo Weasley has had enough. His stupid parents and mean sister don't understand the things important to him at all. So he decides to leave his home - this time for real.Turns out his new-found freedom isn't as fun as he'd hoped as he entangles himself in one misunderstanding after another./Written for Midnight Spark's Season and Genre Challenge./





	1. Check mate

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my story! This is the first fanfiction I wrote - about two years ago - and it was originally published on HPFF (where you can still find it). Thanks a lot for giving it a shot! I would just love if you left a short comment - what did you like? What not so much? Or any other thoughts!  
> \--Shinicha

His eyes widened when he realised what he'd just done. He looked up, pleadingly. Her eyes, as cold as chocolate brown could be, stared back.  
  
"Please,“ he whispered, "let me correct my mistake. Just this once.“  
  
Her eyebrows went up half an inch in response, the only movement in her otherwise motionless face.  
  
"You had your time to think, this is what you chose to do,“ she answered.   
  
"I know how to make it right, I was just absentminded a teensy moment, come on!“ He moved his hand towards the table. Before he could reach it, she leaned forward and grabbed his wrist.   
  
"Checkmate.“ she said with a smirk.  
  
Angrily, Hugo yanked his hand away.  
  
"Alright. Sure. If that's how you want to play,“ Hugo said with increasing volume, his anger building up. "FINE!“  
  
He jumped up in a sudden movement and turned the small table in front of them upside down. Chess pieces scattered all over the floor, the board followed with a loud clank. "You know what, Rose? FUCK YOU! You think you're SO good and use every stupid occasion to show off your imagined superiority. This is RIDICULOUS.“  
  
Rose's mouth had fallen open in surprise and she had pushed herself back in her chair to avoid the little wooden pawns. They were now scrambling to their feet and shook their little fists up at Hugo. Rose laughed.   
  
"Excuse me? Who is being ridiculous here? Please spare me your hormonal antics, just because you're a sore loser!“  
  
At that moment, their dad entered the living room from the kitchen, a spatula in his hand, looking between the two of them. Hugo was standing with his fists balled staring down at Rose, who was laughing in her brother's face. “What's going on?” Ron asked. “Hugo, why are you screaming at your sister?”  
  
Rose arranged her face in an innocent expression and turned to their dad. “We were just playing chess and he suddenly flipped out because he didn't want to accept that I was winning!” she said accusingly.   
  
“Now, now, son, what were we talking about just yesterday?” He pointed the spatula at Hugo, the other hand at his hip. “You should make a little more effort!”  
  
Hugo scrunched up his face. “Of course you are taking her side. As always. _I_ should make an effort? What about her? I'm so SICK of you all!”  
  
He turned on his heel and stomped out of the room and up the stairs. His father shouted after him “SON! Don't talk like that to your parents!”   
  
On the first landing Hugo entered his room and slammed the door shut. His heart was beating fast with anger. This was so _typical_. Here he was, trying to be nice and actually interact with his sister in a friendly manner to please his parents. And all they did was blame him again. His parents didn't have to listen to her condescending comments all day, her little manipulative moves just to annoy him when they weren't looking. Hugo sat down in front of his magic mixing console and turned the music on. A fast beat erupted and he closed his eyes to the sound taking a deep breath.  
  
This house was just too suffocating. He wasn't usually rash or easily annoyed, just in this tense atmosphere around his family he felt like every of his words and movements was closely observed, judged and eventually turned against him. They didn't understand his humour and his hobbies. Everything he did was constantly compared to what they knew from their small-minded, _posh_ world, and especially to what Rose had done and achieved at his age.  
  
Increasing the volume of the beat, he started adding the latest sound sample he'd created. It was somewhat annoying to do the mixing manually instead of using the wand, but his parents were ridiculously strict when it came to underage magic, even if it was just at home and only for artistic purposes. To the left of the mixing console there was a small pipe, which he grabbed and took a few puffs. Mundungus had secretly given it to him at his last birthday. In Hugo's opinion, Mundungus was the coolest adult in the world. Not as stuck up and worrying all the time. He really knew how to _relax_. Even if Hugo didn't have a perfectly planned out future like Rose did, of one thing he was sure. He would never be as boring and caught up in social rules and do's and don'ts as his parents. He would be a _free_ man, doing what he wanted, not what he _ought_ to do.  
  
There was a loud knock on his door. “HUGO!” his mum shouted over the music. “TURN DOWN THE VOLUME! I'm trying to work, no human can concentrate with this hammering!”  
  
He groaned and adjusted the volume. “Then how about you let me put a SILENCING charm on my room?” he called back.  
  
His mother opened the door, rolling her eyes exasperatedly. “This cannot be good for your brain, seriously, how can you even call this mu-” She interrupted herself and stared at his hand, where she'd spotted the pipe which was emitting purple smoke. Her eyes flashed dangerously. “AND WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT SMOKING INSIDE THE HOUSE? You do realize this stuff is _illegal_?”  
  
She took big steps through his room, yanked the pipe out of his hand and, with a flick of her wand, stopped the music.  
  
“Hey,” Hugo said into the sudden silence, “This is MY room! Give it back!”  
  
Rose and his father had appeared in the door, completing the family gathering. Hugo saw his sister looking between her parents and Hugo, probably looking forward to the scolding, the traitor.  
  
“Your room?” his mother said, throwing the pipe in the rubbish bin next to the table. “This is MY house, if you want to argue like this. Do you realise what happens when it comes out that my own son breaks the law frequently? Seriously, I don't know what to do with you anymore. Last month you get caught spraying the wall behind the Leaky Cauldron, in _broad_ _daylight_ , then my colleague sees you trying to sneak into this awful disco … do you ever even think about your actions?!”  
  
Hugo jumped up from his chair and looked defiantly at her. This way at least she couldn't look down on him. He felt that it lessened the authoritative effect somewhat; his height was physical evidence that he was a grown-up! He thought it was greatly unfair to use those unfortunate accidents against him. So he got caught at bad moments, but it wasn't as if what he was doing things that other people at his age didn't do! He knew for a fact that Rose had been going clubbing since she'd been fourteen years old, but of course their parents wouldn't believe him even if he told them. Besides, they didn't know all the things he did _without_ getting caught, but he found it was strategically unwise to use this as an argument.  
  
“You make it sound as if I'm some criminal! It's not like I'm some Neo Death Eater, practicing Dark Magic!” he said annoyed.  
  
“Ha, and I guess this is something we should be grateful for?” His father had stepped beside his wife and towered over Hugo – a clear winner in the silent height-battle. “For now, you're still underage, and I will not tolerate this kind of behavior in this house! One more of your actions and your silly audio box will be gone!”  
  
There were a few seconds of silence. Then - “Okay. You won't tolerate your son in this house? That's quite alright. BECAUSE HE WON'T BE HERE ANY LONGER!”  
  
With these words, Hugo walked over to his cupboard, took out his rucksack and frantically started stuffing clothes into it. Rose, still leaning in the door, let out a snort. “Oh right. See you tomorrow at King's Cross then. Have a fun night at Dave's.”  
  
Hugo scowled. No-one ever took him seriously. “No, this time I'm gone for real. You'll see! I'm not going back to school!”  
  
“Sure,” she said and turned to leave, apparently deciding that the action was over. His parents walked to the door as well. “No allowance for two months. And don't you dare be late for the train tomorrow,” his mother said irritably.  
  
They knew from experience that grounding him had little effect, since both of them worked during the day and couldn't check whether he even stayed at home. Besides cutting him off money they had little leverage against him, as he well knew. _Ha, Hogwarts Express. As if he'd board._ He would show them that he could well cope without them. And this time he wouldn't come back, that was for sure.


	2. Call me Psycho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Hugo lost his mind over sausages and became a fugitive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, welcome!  
> When I posted this story for the first time it was a one-shot as it was an entry for a challenge. But as it is more of a mini-novella, I decided to split it up into several chapters.  
> So what will Hugo do after his rash decision?  
> Nothing too smart, I can tell you.  
> Enjoy, and if you can find the time - please review :)
> 
> \--Shinicha

A chilly wind blew through the deserted streets. It was an unusually cold August, and the night air smelled of autumn. Hugo kicked a small stone ahead of him as he aimlessly walked down the blocks. His anger from before had somewhat subsided but he didn't regret his decision. He really meant what he'd said; the only way to not being seen as a stupid little boy was to prove that he wasn't. He had run from home before, once even for a whole week, but it was merely to escape the bad vibes at home. He'd never planned to move out for real.  
  
But this time was different. He was sick of his scheduled life laid out for him. He was sick of school, where all he got to hear was that he was _not_ as good as his sister, and careerist slimeball-students wanting to suck up to his family. What good did it to him to finish his N.E.W.T.s? These days, a few N.E.W.T.s weren't nearly enough to get a good job and he was determined not to use his connections to get ahead. Besides, all he learned at school was knowledge that could be exploited by his future bosses to make money. He wasn't interested in other people's profits by perfecting _applied science charms for innovating the economy_ (he shuddered at the thought of the career advice pamphlets they had handed out before O.W.L.s). He wanted to be an _artist_ and produce music.  
  
As he rounded a corner, the delicious smell of food hit his nose. Some ten feet ahead, there was a food stall selling hot-dogs and those addictive Asia-noodles. Confronted with the sweet fragrance of deep-fried stuff, his mouth watered. He'd left without dinner and now felt an uncomfortable emptiness making his stomach growl. He longingly approached the stall and looked at the price list.Damn, if only he had any Muggle money on him. The lady inside the stall eyed him suspiciously as he stared, drooling, for several minutes at the neatly lined up sausages on the cooking plate. “Can I help you?”  
  
“Umm,” Hugo quickly closed his mouth that had hung open and felt his wand in the pocket of his light jacket.  
  
Maybe he could _Imperiuse_ her into giving him sausages? But that would give away his whereabouts immediately. Since this stupid law of Personalised Wand Observation had passed, basically any spell could be traced back to the owner of a wand. For safety in case of serious crimes, the Ministry had argued, but now they regularly used it on underage magic incidents.  
  
Fuck the establishment!, Hugo thought rebelliously and shook his head in response to the food-lady. “No, I'm alright, thanks.”  
  
Suddenly, there was a sound of screeching tires and from the right side of the street bright light hit his face. Sirens started wailing and there were figures approaching him from the far end of the street, running. Hugo panicked. He hadn't used any magic, he'd only _thought_ about an Unforgivable! Was it his pipe? Did they now have some screwed up way to _smell_ illegality? The figures came closer and he took a few steps back, then, without further thought, started running.  
  
He could hear the steps behind him hitting the pavement, drawing nearer, while the wailing grew louder and louder. _What was happening?_ One of the figures bumped into his left shoulder.  
  
“Out of the way!” a deep voice shouted and pushed him aside. He felt his Rucksack swing to the side, the heavy weight making him stumble.  
  
With a hard thud he landed on the ground. Three more people passed him, turning into a small side street. Out of the corner of his eye he saw one car stopping, another following the figures. He groaned and struggled to sit up. His arm hurt and his mind was blank with fear. It had to be the pipe. They would arrest him, the whole country would know that Hugo Weasley, son of the Head of Magical Law Enforcement, had purchased and consumed illegal substances, he'd be removed from the family-tree, thrown into Azkaban and left to rot in a cell for the rest of his life.  
  
A person got out of the car and jogged towards him. The man in blue uniform stared down at him.  
  
“You little fuckers, thought you'd get away with that kind of stunt?” the man said and dragged him up.  
  
Hugo blinked confused at the uniform. Since when did Magical Law Enforcement wear blue? Wasn't that maintenance? He looked at the cap the person wore on his head. Then it dimmed to him. These weren't wizards. These were _please_ -men! His father had told him about them. Another man approached and the two of them sneered at him. “Escaping by foot. Nice try, you idiots.”  
  
Hugo felt relieve wash over him. They hadn't come for him! This was just a stupid misunderstanding. They were most likely chasing the blokes that had just shoved him to the ground. He laughed loudly, relieved.  
  
“You think this is funny?” one officer said and blinked menacingly at him. “Let's see how long your laugh lasts.”  
  
He grabbed Hugo by his neck and shook him forcefully. Hugo gagged and hurried to say: “No! Let go of me! This is a misunderstanding!”  
  
One of the men, a huge bloke with an impressive mustache, laughed. Hugo wiggled and kicked the officer holding him in the shin, who yelped in pain and then growled “Little shit,” punching Hugo hard in the stomach. While Hugo buckled over with an “Uff,” the other officer pushed Hugo in the back and forced him a few steps forward, towards the car. Fuck, fuck, _fuck,_ Hugo thought. He couldn't get caught by Muggles, his parents would literally kill him. He testily reached into his pocket.  
  
It was now or never. He had to do it. He had to get away somehow. He turned sharply to his right, loosening the grip the please-man had on him. Then he freed his wand from his pocket and screamed “Protego!”  
  
He saw the eyes of the please-men widen before they were blasted away by a wave of magic. He pointed his wand at the bigger one of the men, who'd landed a few feet away from Hugo on his behind.  
  
“Leave me alone!” Hugo whispered, his hand trembling. “As far as I'm concerned, this never happened!”  
  
He swallowed. He'd never cast a memory charm before. But it couldn't be that hard, could it? “Obliviate!” he shouted decidedly and the officer, still lying on the ground, lost his panicked look and blinked at him confused.  
  
“What kind of maniac are you?” the other one screamed, pointing his finger at Hugo. “What weird martial arts technique is that? Bernie, you all right?” He looked at his partner.  
  
The second spell hit him in the face, and he, too, blinked stupidly first at his colleague, then at Hugo. Hugo looked down at his wand. This was it. Within a few seconds the Ministry would know what he'd done. He had no choice, he had to destroy the evidence. After hesitating a second, he took his wand in both hands and snapped it in half. He sadly looked at the pieces of wood that had faithfully served him over the last five years.  
  
“Sorry,” he whispered to the broken stick and pocketed the pieces. Then he spun around and ran down the street, as fast as he could.  
  
After a few minutes he was completely out of breath and slowed down his pace. He had done it. This _action_ , as his parents would say, couldn't be done away with by cutting his allowance. He had committed a serious crime and couldn't go back. As the consequences of what had just happened sunk in, fear-sweat mixed with the drops from the exercise. _Keep calm_ , he told himself.  
  
Where could he go? One of his friends' places was out of question, that's where his parents (and the Ministry?) would look first. His relatives were definitely out of question, as were known Wizard locations such as the Leaky Cauldron. The cold breeze made him shiver and he trembled from the aftermath of the shock and hunger.  
  
He spent a few moments thinking about his options. Maybe he could … well, yes, why not? No-one knew they were mates (mainly because they weren't mates as such, but more party-acquaintances), plus he lived alone which was a bonus. Having made a decision, Hugo crossed the street and steered towards the next bus stop. At least he still had some money on his transport-card, it would suffice to get there.

*******  
  
  
  
Forty minutes later, Hugo stood in front of a grey building in a somewhat dodgy street and looked at the nameplates next to the doorbells. There it was. _15, Malfoy_. He pressed the button and waited. After a few moments a voice answered, music could be heard through the speaker. “Who's there?”  
  
“Hi, umm. It's me, Hugo,” Hugo said.  
  
The door buzzed and he pushed it open, climbing up the narrow staircase to the first floor. Scorpius leaned against the doorframe, music now blaring louder from the flat behind him.  
  
“Hey, what's up man?” he said. “What brings you here?”  
  
Hugo smiled shyly and shook the blonde's hand. “Hey, Scorp. How're you? Sorry to just show up like that… I, um, had stress with the 'rents and was wondering if I could maybe crash here for the night...?”  
  
The other boy grinned understandingly and stepped back to let Hugo in. “Sure thing, come on in! We were just chilling out, join us, no problem.”  
  
Relieved, Hugo entered the flat and made his way through the small hallway, filled with smelling garbage-bags, pairs of shoes and beer crates with empty bottles, into the living room. There was a group of people sitting on a big sofa and on the floor. Some of them he knew. “Hey Davies, Nott, McLaggen,” he said nodding at them, introducing himself to others.  
  
“Psychoooo!” Nott shouted, addressing him by his stage name, holding up his beer in a salute, “Nice to see you man! Your timing's perfect”  
  
Scorpius came up behind Hugo and thrust a new bottle into Hugo's hands. “Cheers,” he said. “We've been arguing over the last fifteen minutes what to listen to. Wanna help out?”  
  
“Sure, why not,” Hugo grinned and took a few Audio-Orbs from his Rucksack. “Let me show you some fresh noise!” He put in some of his latest tracks and everyone started to comment on it approvingly, bouncing their heads with the beat.  
  
“You're really good at this, man,” Scorp said patting Hugo on the back. “That show you did a few weeks back at the Knockturn Rave was _sick_.”  
  
“Thanks, doing my best,” replied Hugo smiling.  
  
“Seriously, you're practically a _star,_ ” Nott continued the ego-boosting. “My friend's scouting for a record label and after your last gig she was asking for you personally! You should've stayed a bit longer, I could've introduced you.”  
  
Hugo couldn't help the wide grin spreading across his face. _Ha, now would you listen to that, stupid Rose_ , he thought smugly. He had qualities after all, his parents just didn't appreciate them and called them brain-damaging hammering.  
  
“So, what brought you here?” McLaggen asked, taking out a small pipe and lighting it. She exhaled some purple smoke and looked at him questioningly.  
  
Hugo then retold the events of the night and they all agreed that parents didn't understand the meaning of life at all and should learn to _chillax_. “But whatcha gonna do about the wand thing?” Davies asked after Hugo had shown them the broken stick.  
  
“Well,” Hugo said slowly, “I need an unplottable one, obviously, since I'm not of age yet. Then I'll see what to do next. Maybe looking for a place and trying to get some gigs to get a bit of money, you know.”  
  
“Hmm,” a guy named Harris that Hugo hadn't known before that night, started “I know where you could get an unplottable wand.” He was a small person with receding hairline despite his seemingly young age, and a rat-like face. “I know this bloke who does it. Costs only a fifty.” He leaned forward, emptying his pipe into an ashtray and retrieving some fresh herbs from his pocket. “I can give you the details, if you want?”  
  
Hugo shifted uncomfortable in his armchair. The guy had something strange about him that made him unlikeable. Maybe it was his watery, mean eyes. Then again, it was probably just Hugo's drunkenness that made him a little paranoid. “Sure thing. Tell me.”  
   
  
Later that night, when everybody had left, Hugo tossed on the sofa, unable to sleep. In a few hours, the Hogwarts Express would leave and he wouldn't be on it. It felt weird. It wasn't that he regretted it – the best people had left after their O.W.L.s, Mundungus, his Uncle George and his own father hadn't finished his N.E.W.Ts... – it was just strange to have this huge unknown time and space of uncertainty before him. He told himself that this was inevitable, if it wasn't now, he would feel the same after finishing school, but truth be told, it wasn't quite the same without the assurance of his family backing him up, a home to go to, and an actual plan that went beyond “take the second to the left after _Borgin and Burkes_ and knock on the small, red door three times,” that would lead to an unplottable wand. Practically, he was now a wizard on the run. An outcast, completely avoiding any records on his magical activity. He sighed, emptied the left over glass of whiskey on the table and fell into a restless sleep.


	3. Unplottable Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Hugo's opinion, "Grindelboy" was a pretty pathetic stage name.

Hugo woke up at noon by the delicious scent of tea. Scorp handed him the cup he'd held under his nose and sat down opposite of him on the chair. “So you're sure you don't need to stay a few more nights?” he asked. 

“Really, thanks a lot. I'm trying to find some place soon, if nothing works out I'm getting back to you,” Hugo replied, taking a sip of black tea.

After having some cold pizza for breakfast, he packed his stuff and left for Knockturn Alley, wisely taking the (unofficial) back-entry, thus avoiding the Leaky Cauldron, where some left-over red paint on the wall remembered of his last graffiti action - the one that he'd been caught at. Seriously, nobody respected creative street-art. He'd tried to convey a message with deep meaning there.

The weather did the beginning of autumn justice: Light rain drizzled down on his head and the notorious London-wind blew in his face as he went down the streets. At this moment, his parents were probably panicky looking for their son who'd just missed the Hogwarts Express.

Following the instructions of rat-face from last night, he turned into the second to the left after Borgin and Burkes and knocked on the red door that was two buildings into the narrow, cobbled street. At first, nothing happened. He shuffled his feet on the ground, considering to leave. Maybe he should just go back to his parents, apologize and take whatever punishment they had in store. But just then, a small window opened in the middle of the door. A green eye with dark-blue pouches underneath stared at him. “Codeword?” a raspy voice whispered.

Hugo looked to his left and right nervously. He didn't know any codeword. “Um … Harris sent me,” he said, remembering rat-face's name. The eye blinked and stared at him for a few more moments. “Unplottable?” 

“Yeah!” Hugo said, relieved (or was he?) that the eye apparently knew who he was. The door opened slightly and Hugo cautiously squeezed himself through into a dimly lit cellar with several shelves that were filled with small black boxes, and a low counter. The eye he'd seen was attached to an old, skinny wizard with black robes, no hair and a hunchback, who shuffled behind the counter. For some reason Hugo felt as if he was being watched, but the dark room didn't show any presence of other people. “That'll be sixty Galleons,” the old wizard said holding out his hand demandingly. 

“What? But Harris said would only be -” The menacing look of the wizard shut Hugo up and he silently retrieved his wallet from the rucksack, fishing out most of his savings. The old man greedily took the coins, and, while counting them, asked: “What core and length?”

“My old wand? Dragon heart-string, 13 inches,” Hugo replied. The old man nodded, snapped his boney fingers and one of the black boxes slipped out of the shelves and floated towards Hugo. The boy snatched it out of the air and cautiously opened it. As he took the black wand into his right hand, it glimmered lazily.

“It's used, obviously,” the old man said, “but it should do. Might need some adjusting with spell work.”

Hugo nodded and waved the wand around a bit. It felt foreign between his fingers. At that moment, the door behind them opened and three bulky men stomped in. They had very carefully shaved heads and necks that would probably blind spectators when when reflecting sunlight. The biggest of them wore robes made of shiny, black leather that stretched over his thick arm muscles. The others wore regular robes and were also very muscly, but not as big as the first guy, who also appeared to be their leader as he stepped in front of the other two and spoke to the old man. (Hugo wished he knew the man's name to label him more accurately, but for now he had to stick with old as it being his main characteristic. Or maybe Hunchback would do.)

“Macnair,” he said, solving the riddle of Hunchback's name, “We need some new Unplottables. Five to be exact.”

The old man snickered. “Ah, got into trouble again?”

Muscle-man grunted in response. “They somehow got wind of Lender's Meadow. Just barely got away.”

He then seemed to notice Hugo for the first time and warily looked him up and down with tiny, scrunched up eyes. “Who're you?”

Hugo startled at being addressed directly. “Me? I also nearly got caught yesterday...”

“Really? Haven't seen you before. Did you hear about the bail-out plan?”

Hugo blinked, confused. Was he supposed to know muscle-man? Was this some kind of misunderstanding, again? Lender's Meadow rang a bell; he'd heard of that place before. If only he could remember in what context. Probably one of the many illegal rave-locations on the country side. He'd been to a few. It was risky but fun and if you were lucky you'd meet great new-coming DJs and make connections. That's where he'd gotten to know Scorp.

“No, I don't really have any plan. Actually, I don't even have a place to stay, had to leave home,” he replied half-truthfully.

“Tell me about it,” the second-biggest man chimed in. “Same for me, they raided my place yesterday. I'm staying with him for now” He lazily pointed his thumb at muscle-man.

“Bastards!” Hugo said sympathetically. The Ministry really had it in for pipe-smokers these days. Just last week they'd arrested Dave's herbs dealer and Mundungus had moved his herb patches to the Forbidden Forest for additional security.

Muscle-man had in the meantime closed the deal with Macnair and was now stuffing five black boxes into the pockets of his leather robes. He turned towards Hugo.

“You got no place to stay, you say?” Hugo nodded. “I could help you out there. I can see you're still new to the scene. But we care for our brothers, isn't that right?”

The other men nodded. “Yeah, our kind has to stick together!,” number two agreed.

Hugo looked at them warily. There was something strange about them, something he couldn't point his finger at, just as with rat-face. And why would they say he was new to the scene? After all, he'd already done several gigs! But then again he wasn't in a situation to be picky, and to be offered a place to stay out of the blue was more that he could've asked for.

“That's … really nice. Thanks.” he accepted the offer hesitantly.

“Right, let's go.”

 

*******

 

Muscle-man, who went by the nickname Grindelboy, which Hugo personally found somewhat pathetic for an artist's name, lived in a large house not far from Knockturn Alley. It seemed to have protective charms around it, as Hugo didn't notice it until his new companions pointed it out to him. Grindelboy appointed him to a room on the first floor, which was small and clammy, fitting the cold atmosphere of the rest of the house. The furniture consisted of a narrow, wooden bed and a night table. Hugo decided that it would fit his needs just fine, started to set up his music equipment and thought about what to do with his future.

 

Over the next weeks, he found some sort of routine in his new life as a freelance artist on the run. He would sleep in late, eat lunch with the other inhabitants of the house – of whom he found out there were five, all with shaved heads and very secretive about their real names – then he'd work on his tracks and write to labels trying to secure gigs or contracts.

In the afternoon he often went for long walks in parks and woods. The beautiful scenery of yellow and red leaves, the scent of muddy grounds and the autumn sun shedding its light on increasingly bare trees, inspired him. The beats and melodies flowed from his wand with ease and he found himself more productive than he'd ever been in the school environment or at home. Sometimes he thought about Hogwarts and his friends. So far, no owls had found him, and he wondered if those smart birds knew when the recipient didn't want to be contacted. He dreaded his parents far too much to risk writing letters to people he knew. 

Hugo couldn't deny that there were times he felt a bit lonely. Grindelboy and His Boys, as Hugo had named them, didn't make very good company, often retreating to a room in the basement to hold meetings which he wasn't to attend because he was “still too new to the scene”. He secretly wondered if he had moved in with some major drug dealers but didn't dare asking any questions. He'd tried to figure out what this one slogan that was painted on the wall in the living room meant – Walpurgis – We'll Purge – but it didn't make much sense to him.

A few times he hung out with Scorp who, unexpectedly, was quite serious about his apprenticeship at St. Mungo's and therefore busy during most of the week. Nevertheless, he found the time to listen to Hugo's music and encourage him to contact several indie-labels that were known to support new coming artists.

It was in the third week of October, Hugo had just returned from a window shopping tour in Muggle London that he found an owl sitting on the windowsill to his room, a letter knotted to its leg. Hugo untied it, his heart beating nervously, and opened the envelope.


	4. A Spilled Secret and a Rising Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chapter in which everything comes together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the end - I was really happy when I managed to finished this story.   
> I hope you liked some of it - and maybe you would like to tell me what parts you enjoyed, and what still needs improvement.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> \--Shinicha

_Dear Psycho,_  
  
  
  
_Thank you for sending us your samples. After listening, we decided that we would like to invite you to the annual Knockturn Halloween Rave as the first act and to discuss further details for our planned collaboration album of promising new coming artists. We think highly of your work and will happily promote you to enter the Techno Freedom Newcomer Awards under the name of our label._  
  
_Please send us a notice as soon as possible, whether you are interested in our offer._  
  
_Best regards,_  
  
_Arabell from the Trance Dance Records Team_  
  
   
  
   
  
The boy unbelievingly stared at the parchment in his hands. He'd done it! A label not only wanted him for one of the biggest events of the year, but also to sign a contract with him! He danced around his room happily. His dream would finally come true. He had to share these good news with someone.  
  
Hugo left his room and skipped down the small flight of stairs towards the kitchen. Grindelboy and his boys weren't exactly his first choice for a hearty chat, but seeing that his social contacts were limited they'd be the first ones to hear about his breakthrough. With a smile on his face he swung the door open and stepped into the kitchen.  
  
Then he stopped in his tracks.  
  
Several huge men were crowded around the dinner table in the middle of a seemingly heated discussion. One of them, a man Hugo had never seen before, was just slamming his fist on the table, growling: “Fuck this Ministry-mudblood Weasley! This completely breaks with all traditions of handling trials...”  
  
Hugo immediately regretted stomping into the room without knocking. Ministry-mudblood? Weasley? Were they talking about his mother? An uneasy feeling crept up inside him. This situation felt very, very wrong. He quietly took a step back. Leaving before someone noticed him seemed like the right thing to do. His left hand reached for the door knob behind him – only it wasn't there.  
  
With a loud bang the kitchen door slammed shut.  
  
The talking ceased immediately. Seven bulky necks slowly turned around and fourteen eyes stared at the intruder. Hugo gulped. This was clearly not the moment to spread happy news.  
  
“Hi, uh, sorry for interrupting your … talk.” His eyes flitted nervously across the room, avoiding the menacing looks. “Umm. How's dinner coming along?” His voice sounded unnaturally high.  
  
Grindelboy got up from a chair at the far end of the table and took a few slow steps in Hugo's direction. He lifted one hand to signal the others to keep seated.  
  
“No dinner today, sorry boy. And next time … knock before you enter a room.”  
  
Hugo nodded and hastily opened the door. “Yeah, sorry about that. I'll eat out then.”  
  
He fled the kitchen and took the stairs up to his room. What was going on in this house? The word Mudblood rang in his ears. No-one dared to use it nowadays. It was a bad word, associated with the Second Wizarding War … And what about the trials the man had mentioned? As far as he knew, his mother wasn't involved in any trials concerning drug dealing. There was definitely something sinister going on in this building. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. He would start looking for a different place to stay, soon. For now, he would concentrate on his gig that was only a week away.  
  
   
  
   
  
Hugo spent the next days selecting and preparing songs for his show. He'd accumulated quite an impressive number of tracks that reached from melodic and light to fast and dark pieces. For Halloween, he decided, it had to be a tad scary and ghostly with the right amount of party-mood.  
  
All the while, he did his best to ignore his dodgy surroundings in the house. But after he'd overheard the conversation in the kitchen, he couldn't help but notice several suspicious signs. For once, the complete lack of the typical scent of herbs made his initial theory of his host being a drug dealer somewhat unconvincing. He also had to admit that he had never even heard of artists with the names his flatmates had introduced themselves with. Last but not least, when he asked Scorp about “Lender's Meadow”, the supposed rave location where Hugo had thought some of the men had been caught, his friend told him that he'd never come across a place with that name before.  
  
Hugo tried to push these unwelcome thoughts to the back of his mind, arguing that bad guys wouldn't be so nice and let him stay at their place for free. Evil people did evil things, right?  
  
   
  
Thus, a week passed by and finally the morning of his grand day broke. Hugo got up at the first ringing of his alarm clock. He hadn't slept well, rehearsing his show over and over again in his head. After all, this was the day the label would decide whether they wanted him for their album, or not. He found himself unable to eat anything for breakfast, instead drinking chamomile tea in the hope that it would calm him down. Scorp had promised him that he'd be there for the show, and so had Nott. But for now, Hugo was on his own.  
  
He spent the day solving silly crossword-puzzles in outdated Daily Prophets, not caring that he got most of the answers wrong, and forced himself to eat some stale sandwiches even though he didn't feel hungry. The sun began to set and the alarm clock on his tiny night table announced that it was “time to get ready and clean up, you smelly hippie.”  
  
Hugo ignored the other styling advices by his alarm clock that apparently had high ambitions to substitute the missing mirror in his room and suggested he'd better get a facial peeling against acne or otherwise hide behind his bed until the worst of his puberty was over. A shower was all he needed.  
  
He went across the hall to the bathroom and opened the door – and found himself facing a huge – and completely uncovered – mass of muscle and meat with a tiny head attached to its shoulders that looked down on him questioningly.  
  
Hugo was paralyzed. The man was everything he was not: from his dark hair to his big arm muscles and well-defined abs to his tighs that looked as if they could crush a watermelon between them without much effort. But all these things weren't what Hugo rendered motionless as he faced one of Grindelboy's boys naked in the bathroom.  
  
It was the huge, black tattoo that was plastered across the man's chest: A snake winding through the mouth of a skull and black letters in Gothic style reading “ _I'm a Knight”_. The Dark Mark.  
  
Hugo couldn't tear his eyes from the picture that was engraved on the man's skin. Like a big wave all the hints and oddities of the house he was living in, that he had fought to suppress, forced their way to Hugo's consciousness. The reference to the Knights of Walpurgis in the living room. The weird nicknames that all reminded of Dark Wizards. He even remembered, where he'd heard of Lender's Meadow before: His father had mentioned it during dinner once as one of the meeting points of dark activities that they'd soon raid. There was no way to deny what now seemed so obvious. He could slap himself for his ignorance and stupidity. _He had accidentally moved in with Neo Death Eaters._  
  
The man, known to Hugo only as _Salazar_ , seemed to misunderstand Hugo's stare, as his eyes wandered down his own body and then looked back up, his lips forming a smirk. “Jealous?”  
  
The words jerked Hugo from his trancelike state of shock. He mumbled some incoherent words and stumbled backwards into the hall. He had to get away, now. He desperately tried to form a coherent thought. What was he to do?  
  
Back in his room he grasped his wand and began to _Accio_ all his possessions, stuffing them into his bag. There was no way he'd stay any second longer. The Neo Death Eater Scene was small but known for their violence. Not only once had they killed people during their brutal marches after Quidditch games. Hugo had once been shown an underground publication in which they described crazy “scientific experiments” to prove that wizards and witches of Muggle decent were inferior to pure bloods. They were, in one word, the personification of reaction and insanity.  
  
While hastily throwing Audio-Orbs with his music into the rucksack he silently thanked his luck that he'd never introduced himself with his real name, only using his alias. If they knew that his father was the one who'd put most of their _brothers_ behind bars they'd have killed or tortured him for sure. To them, he was only Psycho.  
  
At that moment he heard heavy footsteps stomping down the hall in front of his room. The door flew open. Hugo whirred around, his rucksack loosely hanging from his shoulder, wand in his right hand. Two guys entered his room, their massive bodies filling most of the space. Grindelboy stepped forward, his face contorted in rage and his eyes blinking menacingly. He threw a paper at the boy in front of him, which hit him in the stomach and then fell down in front of his feet.  
  
“Hugo. Weasley.”  
  
Hugo's eyes widened in shock. How did they know? His eyes wandered to the _Daily Prophet_ on the floor. A large picture of his own face stared back.  
  
   
  
**_HUGO WEASLEY MISSING!_**  
  
   
  
These words were written in large capital letters over his picture. _Crap._  
  
Salazar now entered the group, only half-dressed in thight underpants. He stupidly looked around. “What's going on?”  
  
The others ignored him and continued to eye Hugo.  
  
“You thought you could screw us over, eh?” Grindelboy said in a low and threatening voice. “Thought you could impress your daddy, the fucking blood-traitor. Thought we wouldn't find out.” He laughed humourlessly. The men behind him growled and flexed their muscles. “Well, he won't be seeing you again, that's for sure.”  
  
And with these words Grindelboy yanked his wand from his pockets and pointed it at the boy. Hugo reacted instinctively and threw himself to the floor. A curse hit the wall behind the spot where his head had been only a second ago. Grindelboy swore and another man leaped forward. Hugo rolled away, but not quickly enough. A hand grabbed his ankle and pulled him a few inches back. Panicky, he raised his wand and shouted the first spell that came to his mind.  
  
“Petrificus Totalus!” he screamed. The man froze and Hugo kicked him hard in the face. Blood gushed from the man's nose. Grindelboy shouted another spell and the bed next to Hugo erupted in flames. Without thinking any further, Hugo got up and leaped on the burning bed and towards the window. He climbed on the windowsill and jumped, just when a jet of purple light went straight through the window and missed his shoulder by only half an inch.  
  
The fall was over before Hugo registered the distance between the window and the ground. He hit it and a sharp pain shot through his legs. He buckled over and landed on all fours, when another curse from Grindelboy's wand bombed a small crater into the asphalt to his left. Doing his best to ignore the pain, Hugo scrambled to his feet and took off. His body worked purely on adrenaline as he ran down the empty streets. From the house he could hear the men shouting.  
  
“Apparate, you idiots!” one of them was bellowing.  
  
Hugo thought that was a very good advice, only he didn't know how to. While sweat poured down his forehead he desperately tried to think of what to do next. The Rave, he thought. There would be plenty of people around. But could he just drag a bunch of crazy killers to a party? He had to contact the Ministry, and as an Auror, his father was the best shot he had.  
  
The shouting of the men drew nearer. Risking a short glance back he saw three men closing up on him, Salazar still in his underpants, the other man with blood smeared across his face. Green light shot towards him. Hugo avoided it with a turn to his left. He was headed to the rave location close by. Why weren't there any people on the streets? Nobody who could come to his rescue? He pointed his wand over his shoulder and cast a burning charm. A furious scream told him that he'd hit his target.  
  
He was close, only a few streets away. _How could he possibly contact his father?_ His breathing was ragged. Damn it, he should've worked out more. Two more curses hit the pavement closely behind him. They were now only some forty feet away.  
  
Then it came to him. A Patronus! He knew how to cast them. That way he could send a message. He sent a few more jinxes back at his pursuers. Then he took a sharp turn to the right and into a large doorway halfway into the street. _Right, a happy thought_. He only had a few seconds to manage a full Patronus. He closed his eyes and imagined his show, a crowd of people dancing to the music, himself on stage.  
  
“Expecto Patronum!” he whispered decidedly and opened his eyes. A whirl of formless silver erupted from his wand. He swore. The men could be heard rounding the corner. This was his last chance. He tried again, this time he thought of Rose standing in the audience, looking impressed at his performance. A small smile appeared on his lips at the thought of it. He tried again.  
  
“Expectro Patronum!”  
  
A giraffe sprang from his wand hovering before him and looking down at him expectantly with her large eyes. “Tell my dad,” he whispered urgently, “to come and rescue me. Neo Death Eaters. Near Knockturn. Knockturn Rave!” he added.  
  
The giraffe disappeared just as Salazar appeared in the doorway. He grabbed Hugo by his neck and pressed him against the wall. Hugo gagged, almost losing his wand. Without further thought, he swung his knee up and kicked Salazar hardly in _that_ area.  
  
_Thanks Rose, for training your Krav Maga moves on me_ , he thought as Salazar loosened his grip around Hugo's neck and bent over in pain. Hugo braced himself, lifting his wand. Another Petrificus Totalus had Salazar out his way. Luckily that one didn't have his wand on him.  
  
The man who'd been hit by his burning charm appeared, closely followed by Grindelboy. They threw a curse at Hugo. It hit him at his left shoulder. He smelled the strap of his rucksack and his own flesh burn. Excruciating pain shot through his body. He bent over and used his position to move forward and ram the man with his head, regretting his decision immediately. He bounced back, head throbbing after hitting the rock-like, muscle-packed body of his opponent. Thinking of the please-men he'd overwhelmed a few weeks back, he shouted:  
  
“Protego!”  
  
The impact wasn't as strong as it had been then, but it worked. They were pushed a few feet away by the charm. Hugo took the chance and started running. He was almost there. His turning around another corner saved him from a killing curse, that hit the building in front of him. His shoulder and head throbbed with pain. He could see the entrance to the club where the rave would take place. Dressed up people lined up in front of it.  
  
At that moment a huge weight hit his body from behind and threw him over. Grindelboy was on top of him and pointed his wand at his throat.  
  
“That's enough you son of a mudblood,” he whipsered. “No more games.”  
  
He drew his breath. “Aveda Ke-”  
  
A bright red jet of light hit him in mid-sentence. Hugo's heart was beating fast, as he watched Grindelboy being blasted off his body a few meters away.  
  
“HUGO!”  
  
He recognized the voice immediately and relieve washed over him. His father had come. He craned his neck from the floor and saw his dad, Uncle Harry and two female Aurors he didn’t know approach. The women rounded up on Grindelboy and his companion immediately, while his father knelt down beside him.  
  
“Are you alright? Talk to me!”  
  
“Uh... yeah. I'm okay.” Hugo shook his head slightly. A few curious dressed up party goers from the line in front of the club had come closer, forming a distant half-circle about him and his dad. “They saw the picture of me missing in the paper … followed me. I know where their headquarters are!” he added, thinking of the house he'd spent the last few weeks at.  
  
“Alright son. Let's talk about this later. Can you get up?”  
  
Hugo got lifted to his feet and stared in his father's face, who watched him with concern and an unbelieving expression on his face. “Where the hell have you been?”  
  
At that moment, a woman approached them. “Excuse me? What's going on here? Did one of our guests cause any troubles?”  
  
A stern looking woman in her early thirties, with green hair, tied into a tight knot on the top of her head and rimmed glasses on her nose looked between Hugo, his dad and Uncle Harry.  
  
“I'm Arabell, the organiser of this event. I'm terribly sorry if there has been any disturbance...”  
  
“Arabell?” Hugo inserted quickly, hastily freeing himself from his father's arms.  
  
“I'm Psycho. The first act!”  
  
She looked between him and the two men escorting him, clearly unsure of what to think of the situation. “Is that right? Well, we've been waiting for you, you're up in one hour...”  
  
A sudden sound to his left startled Hugo. With a pop, his mother had Apparated next to them.  
  
“Hugo?! Is that you? Are you alright?” she cried the second after she'd spotted him. She rushed towards him and enclosed him in a tight embrace. “You have no idea how worried we were... None of our owls reaching you. Where the hell have you been?” she copied the exact sentence his father had used.  
  
She loosened her grip and looked him up and down.  
  
Hugo wriggled himself from the embrace, his ears reddened in embarrassment. Being hugged by his parents in front of all these people! A few feet away, the Aurors had tied up Grindelboy, Salazar and the third man and were searching them for their wands. Hugo took a deep breath.  
  
“Look,” he started, “I can explain. Nothing's happened to me. Please let me talk this out?”  
  
He turned to Arabella. “Can I have a talk with my parents for a moment? I'll be ready for the show,” he assured her. Arabella seemed as if she didn't want to get involved with whatever was happening, as long as it didn't mean any charges for her and the club.  
  
“Alright. You can take a room backstage. But be on time for your act.” She led Hugo and his erratic parents inside the club, past the increasing number of people in front of the entrance, who eyed them accusingly for skipping the line.  
  
Hugo, his parents and Uncle Harry settled into a small room behind the stage with a couch and a small coffee table. Hugo then started to retell the events of the past two months, while his mother fussed over his injury and healed the burn on his shoulder with a quick spell. Luckily, his parents seemed far too relieved to see him alive to be angry at him. His father eagerly grabbed the chance to blame others, when Hugo mentioned the help he'd gotten from Scorpius.  
  
“This stupid Malfoy brat, as father as son!” he growled, but was silenced by a look from his wife.  
  
When Hugo got to the point where he'd obtained an unplottable wand - conveniently skipping the part where he'd Obleviated two _please_ -men - the others briefly discussed the legal charges that could be held against him for it, but his mother stated that owning one was not illegal and that only _selling_ them would get him into trouble.  
  
As he told them about the house he'd moved to, all three of them tensed in their seats. Uncle Harry immediately jolted down the address and left them to hunt down the location and secure evidence. His mother had gasped about finding out that her son had lived with dark wizards under one roof for more than one month.  
  
“So why are you even here?” his dad finally asked with a look around the room.  
  
“Ah this...” Hugo said shyly, but was interrupted by Arabella who'd just entered the room.  
  
“This one here,” she said, “is our first act today and hopefully the next winner of the Techno Freedom Newcomer Award. If you would excuse him now, we should really do a quick sound check before the event starts. The people are lining up outside, waiting to be let in.”  
  
His parents looked at each other, baffled. “You're saying this … music … he's making … is good, yeah?” his father asked Arabella unsure if he'd heard right.  
  
“Damn right, it's good. Psycho, are you ready?”  
  
Hugo looked between his parents nervously. “Umm...”  
  
His mother sighed. “All right. Go on then. But this is not over! We will be waiting for you. You're coming home tonight.”  
  
His father coughed awkwardly. “Right. I'll go to the Ministry. Take care of the missing person's report. I'll be back right away. Son, this will have consequences!”  
  
Hugo hurried to nod in agreement. “Yeah, okay. I understand.”  
  
He then followed Arabella outside to the stage. He didn't want to think of what would happen later that night at home, and what consequences his action would have. First, he would enjoy his first big show. And besides, he would turn seventeen next week. His freedom was only a step away! With a large, decisive move to put this metaphorical step towards _coolness_ into practice, he strode forward - and landed flat on his nose. With a beet-red face he untangled the stray cable around his ankle and got up. He cleared his throat.  
  
"Right!" he called to the technician and the crew for stage lightning "Let's get the party started!"


End file.
